Tears Mixed with Rain
by MissFive-0
Summary: Tony is in the middle of a depressive episode when Peter comes over and Tony snaps at him. Hurting Peter makes Tony feel like an even bigger asshole, but Peter is stronger than he looks.


Rain ran in rivulets down Tony Stark's floor to ceiling bedroom windows. There were times when it would calm enough for the droplets to be in with a change of being the winner in the race to the bottom, then the clouds would release another wave of hopefuls and snatch victory away from the drops that fell before.

Tony watched in detached fascination as he laid in bed and tried not to think too much; a truly impossible feat for one such as himself, but he gave it a shot anyway.

In times passed, Pepper had stayed with him on days that her schedule allowed and been a welcoming distraction from his own mind. Now though, his best friend and former lover was on the other side of the world, clinching some deal that would take the company to dazzling new heights. So, Tony was alone and trying valiantly to distract himself by choosing a drop of water to lend his support to.

FRIDAY had encouraged him to eat and shower and do normal tasks that at that moment seemed Herculean, Tony was too drained to turn his gaze from the window, let alone move from the warmth of the bed. Whenever the AI tried to suggest something else, Tony shrugged and didn't reply. Some distant part of his mind told him that he should feel guilty for ignoring his creation, that FRIDAY only wanted to help, but that required the haze around his mind to lift a little and that didn't seem possible at that point in time.

Instead, Tony continued to watch the rain fall and drench everything below it, his eyes eventually closing and sealing him inside his nightmares once more.

He awoke several hours later with the feeling of his head and mouth stuffed with cotton wool, he had kicked the covers down at some point, probably in a desperate bid to escape his demons, and shivers had brought goosebumps to his skin as a result.

He found that his arms wouldn't respond to his commands to pull the blankets over himself, so he stayed there and shivered until he heard someone moving around in the main living area. He slowly turned his head and blinked at FRIDAY's nearest sensor; his vocal cords failed him.

"You have a visitor, Boss. Peter's here." She informed him.

Tony tried to tell himself to move and greet the boy, but he just couldn't do it.

"Mr Stark?" Peter called from down the hall. "Mr Stark, FRIDAY said you're awake so I hope I'm not disturbing you. I can leave if you want?"

Want. Wanting something required him to think and to feel and Tony didn't have the strength for either of those things. Peter must've realised that he wasn't going to get a response because a moment or two later he knocked on the bedroom door. "Mr Stark, FRIDAY said you're not feeling so great, can I get you anything?"

Once again, Tony urged himself to say something, to let the kid know everything was fine, he'd be fine, he just needed to let this pass first, but all that came out was, "Peter." His voice was quiet and rough with disuse but Peter and his super hearing heard it anyway.

Pushing the door open slightly, Peter stuck his head in, "Hey Mr Stark-" He broke off once he spotted Tony and pushed the door open the rest of the way, stepping into the room and dropping his backpack by the dresser.

Tony tried to find his voice but again all he could say was, "Peter." He wasn't even sure what he intended to follow it up with; a demand that Peter leave? A request for him to stay? He didn't know.

"How about some water, Mr Stark? That always helps me after a nap." He hurried out of the room and Tony heard him banging around in the kitchen area before reappearing with a glass of water which he placed on the bedside cabinet once he realised that Tony wasn't able to drink from his current position.

Tony watched the young boy's face as he considered the possibilities and rejected certain ideas; certainly more entertaining than watching the rain. Which, now that Tony looked more closely, Peter had clearly been caught in the last downpour, his hair was sticking to his forehead and his hoodie and T-shirt were soaked through. He needed dry clothes. Peter wasn't good with the cold, he couldn't regulate his temperature as well as he could before the bite.

Dragging himself up to rest against the headboard took every bit of energy he had and it was only with Peter's help that he managed it. Hovering uncertainly, Peter watched him until he was sure Tony wasn't going keel over. Tony flicked his eyes to the glass of water and Peter hurried to pass it to him, a couple of drops sloshing over the side. The cold water felt nice sliding down his parched throat and Tony took another sip before handing it back. He waited until Peter had placed the glass down and turned back to him before pointing to the dresser and muttering, "Clothes."

"You want clothes? I can get them, do you have a preference?" The boy jumped up and headed towards where Tony pointed.

"You." Tony replied.

Peter blinked at him and seemed to suddenly remember that he was wet through. "Oh, I'll be fine, don't worry about me, Mr Stark!"

A flash of warmth in his chest surprised him, but it was gone before he could categorise it. "Clothes now."

Tony pretended to miss the eye-roll as the teen turned away and pulled out a clean T-shirt and pair sweatpants from Tony's drawers, he headed into the en-suite to change.

Tony turned his gaze to FRIDAY's sensor and lifted an eyebrow in question.

"I was worried, Boss. Peter seemed like the best choice because you're less likely to turn him away." The AI said, quietly.

Peter emerged from the bathroom with his own clothes balled up in his hands before dropping them into his backpack. Task complete, he moved over to the bed and asked, "How're you feeling, Mr Stark? Did the water help?"

Tony nodded, he didn't have the heart to tell Peter that it would take more than a drink (of any kind) to fix him. "Work?" He said, gesturing to the kid's backpack.

Peter shrugged, "I have a couple of essays to write and a physics test to study for."

"Study." Tony insisted.

"The essays aren't due until next week and I already know most of the stuff for the test, I'll study later."

A sprout of emotion made itself known to Tony; worry. Just because he was fucked up, didn't mean he was going to mess Peter up too.

"Go home. Study."

"Mr Stark, really it's-"

"Peter, go!" Tony said, voice firm. He didn't mean to hurt the kid but he could see from the shock that passed over Peter's face, he had managed to.

He jumped up from the bed and grabbed his backpack, "I'll wash the clothes before returning them. I'm sorry for bothering you, Mr Stark." With that, Peter ducked out of the door and his footsteps hurried towards the elevator.

Feeling what little strength he'd scraped together leave him, Tony slumped against the pillows and scrubbed a hand over his face; he hadn't shaved in a few days, his trademark goatee was overgrown and very unlike the polished version of himself he presented to the world. The bags under his eyes were permanently bruised these days, and his hair hung in a stringy, greasy mess. No wonder the kid had been worried about him.

Self hatred rose up his chest, drowning everything else out. What was the point of being a superhero if he couldn't even save himself?

He'd spent the rest of the evening and most of the night staring at the blemish free ceiling, before falling into a fitful sleep.

Part of him wanted to go back to the numbness that had taken over for the past few days, but the thought also terrified him. Being in that void meant he didn't feel the guilt he'd become accustomed to over the years, he didn't feel the betrayal over what the media had dubbed 'Civil War', he didn't feel the hurt over his broken relationship with Pepper...but he also didn't feel the good things either. His fondness for Peter had tried to fight to the surface yesterday but had lost and allowed Tony to hurt the kid instead. He couldn't remember the last time he'd hung out with Rhodey. Hell, he hadn't visited DUM-E and the kids in the lab in almost a week. Feeling the painful shit was draining but he wanted the good emotions, the people around him didn't deserve having to put up with his shit.

Taking a deep breathe, Tony rolled himself out of bed, wincing as his bare feet touched the cold floor. Dizziness raced through him as he stood, reminding him that he hadn't been vertical in a while. He entered the bathroom and turned the shower on, avoiding looking at himself in the mirror. Discarding his clothes, he dropped them on the floor and stepped under the slightly too hot spray, allowing the water to run over him and loosen the muscles in his back. He stood there for a moment or two just letting his body adjust to the temperature and building himself up to the next task. Eventually, he grabbed the soap and lathered himself up, scrubbing until his skin was red. Next, he shampooed and conditioned, hissing a little when it ran into his eyes and stung.

The familiar scent that filled the bathroom was comforting and broke through the remaining fog that clung to him. He stepped out of the shower and dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist. The mirror was fogged over but cleared with a swipe of his hand. His reflection looked back at him; the bags weren't as noticeable as the last time he'd seen them, the bruising not as deep. His hair dripped down his neck, the droplets trailing past the scars on his chest from the arc reactor, his sternum still ached when he thought about it too much, so he shoved it from his mind and focussed on his face. Tony grabbed his razor and slowly began his usual routine of shaving and trimming his facial hair. Soon enough, he looked like his normal self again.

Tony sighed and turned away from the mirror, heading back into the bedroom to grab clothes from the same dresser as Peter. Once dressed, he stripped the bed and changed the sheets.

"What time is it, FRI?" He asked after realising his phone was dead.

"13:47, Boss."

"Thanks, baby girl. I'm sorry for being a jackass the last few days." He said.

"Don't worry about it, Boss. You made me strong, I can handle it. I'm glad you're feeling better today." The AI replied, a hint of her usual cheek present.

Tony smiled sadly and muttered, "At least one of us is strong, FRI."

After heading for the kitchen to see what his stomach could handle after having neglected it for so long, Tony found a note on the counter.

_Mr Stark,_

_I hope by the time you read this, you'll be feeling better. I wish there had been something I could do to help you, I'm sorry for disturbing you. I hope you don't mind but I asked FRIDAY to let me know if you need anything, I know you can get almost everything for yourself but I figured after everything you've done for me, maybe I could be there for you now. _

_Hope to hear from you soon,_

_Peter. _

Taking a shaky breath, Tony blinked excess moisture from his eyes, and folded the note before shoving it in his pocket. "FRIDAY, send a message to Peter - 'sorry for being an asshole, head over next time you're free.'"

"Done, Boss."

When Tony had sent the message, he hadn't expected Peter to appear the same day. Maybe the day after, perhaps after checking with FRIDAY or Tony himself. Then again, nothing seemed to stop the kid when he had set his mind to something.

Muting some nature documentary that was playing on the TV, Tony turned to watch Peter enter the penthouse. He hesitated awkwardly for a moment, before visibly shaking himself and going straight for the kitchen. He reappeared moments later with a soda and a bag of chips, dropping down on the sofa beside Tony.

"What're we watching?" He asked, tearing the bag open. Tony blinked at him and shrugged, handing the remote to him. His spider reflexes made it easy for him to balance all the objects in his hands.

"Sweet!" He clicked on to the movie tab and selected Empire Strikes Back. Of course. They watched in silence for a while, with the exception of Peter reciting certain lines of dialogue along with the characters.

"I'm sorry that I was such a douche nozzle to you yesterday." Tony finally said, unable to hold it in any longer.

Peter glanced at him, "You know, when my Uncle Ben died, Aunt May had days where she didn't get out of bed too. She was so lost without him that she didn't see the point, she just laid there and cried."

Tony felt his chest seize at the thought of what the kid and his aunt had had to go through, he wished he'd been there to support them. The movie played on in the background but all of Tony's focus was on Peter.

"Some days would be better than others, and she'd get up and shower and make sure we both ate. Then there'd be times when she'd be bad again. Eventually the bad days got fewer and further between, but even now she still has them sometimes."

"It's understandable that she reacted like that, I can't imagine losing a spouse. And for you, losing your Uncle...I'm sorry, Pete." Tony said, haltingly.

Peter turned his whole body to face Tony and the look in his eyes was that of someone far older than 16 years old. "Don't you see, Mr Stark? Grief hits people differently, everyone experiences it in their own way. Just because my Aunt's reaction was to shut down for a while, that doesn't invalidate other people's responses. You're grieving and with everything else you have going on, it's not hard to understand why you'd be depressed."

Rendered almost speechless by the wisdom aimed at him, Tony shook his head and tried to respond without his voice shaking. "But I haven't lost anyone. Recently."

Smiling sadly, Peter shrugged, "You lost the Avengers."

Tony stared at the young boy in front of him for a moment, struck dumb. His head felt light and heavy at the same time, his hands were shaking slightly and he felt warm all over. He had refrained from thinking along those lines because it was true, no one on the team had died, they'd been lucky. But he had lost them, hadn't he?

Bruce had been gone for well over a year, they had no way of finding him or even knowing if he was still alive, though until they had confirmation, Tony wouldn't give up hope that he was out there somewhere. Thor was off on some distant planet, on a mission that was truly only known to himself. Clint and Natasha were in hiding, though he knew he could find them if he chose to. And Steve...well he wasn't entirely sure at what point he'd lost Steve but it was long before the Accords came into play.

Sure, Rhodey and Vision were still around, but it wasn't the same. Tony had lost so many people in his life, some to death, some to his own behaviour, some to their own desire, but he was lucky, right? He still had people. He still had Pepper, Happy, and...Peter.

He blinked and found that a tear had carved its way down his cheek during his distraction, he swiped it away but another quickly replaced it.

"It's okay to cry, Mr Stark. My Uncle Ben always told me that it isn't a sign of weakness, it's a sign that you've been strong for too long." Peter said, softly.

Nodding jerkily, Tony tried to regain control of himself, his breath felt like it was trapped in his chest until it suddenly all released in a violent sob. He covered his face with his hands and tried to keep silent but the hand that Peter placed on his shoulder broke down what little remained of his defences. He lost track of how long they sat there; Tony, crying for everyone he'd lost, from his parents to his friends, for the people he'd hurt and failed to save. Peter, offering comfort to the man he'd idolised his whole life, the man that even in that moment inspired him to be better and more open with himself and with those around him.

Eventually, the tears died up and the sobbing subsided, and Tony was left feeling like a wrung out sponge but more at peace than he had in a long time.

The depression hadn't been cured, he knew he'd have days like yesterday again in the future and he knew he'd probably still try to face them alone, it was hard to break such habits after all, but he knew without asking that if he called or texted Peter or Pepper or Rhodey, they'd be there to drag him back from the edge. He may not feel like he deserved them, nothing would ever convince him that he did, but staying and hanging around him regardless was their choice.

He wiped his face again, his gaze settling on the concerned but patient face of Peter Parker, "I'm still sorry for being an asshole to you." He croaked.

Peter just smiled, "It's okay, Mr Stark...I forgive you."


End file.
